


Ripples Into Tidal Waves

by Tory_The_Kitteh



Series: Infinite Possibilities [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Comic, Digital Art, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Ficlet Collection, Noct is the accursed, Sad Noctis Lucis Caelum, chosen king Ardyn, fate swap au, life is not a fairytale, love makes people do crazy shit, some silly stuff, y'jhimei is there for 5 seconds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tory_The_Kitteh/pseuds/Tory_The_Kitteh
Summary: Fate swap AU wherein Noctis is the Accursed and Ardyn is the Chosen King, and this changes everything and nothing.(Otherwise known as that one AU where Luna made a pet out of the Accursed.)
Relationships: Eventual Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Past Aera Mirus Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Infinite Possibilities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623736
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	1. Love and Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, more or less the plot of FFXV except because Noctis and Ardyn are two very different people, things go a bit differently… What it comes down to is: Noctis making a series of decisions, which inadvertently affects the choices and actions of other people, that ultimately results in the Astral’s plans being unintentionally, yet completely and utterly, derailed. 
> 
> (Imma separating this out from Bits and Pieces since it's I wrote another little piece to go with this AU.)
> 
> ***This is just gonna be a collection of snippets, probably not in any particular order. Feel free to send me prompts and/or ask me questions about this AU! ^^

Aera loves Noctis.

Childhood friends turned lovers. A shared destiny. Him the savior of mankind, her an oracle of the Gods. It is a union is blessed by the Astrals themselves. A true fairytale romance.

Aera truly loves Noctis.

And yet, perhaps her love does not run as deep as it could…

Perhaps if there was more to their relationship. More than the easy companionship they’d always shared. More to talk about other than that of Gods and destiny. If he were a more ambitious man, no less kind, no less gentle, but someone with bigger dreams, and smaller secret desires. Things he could share with her and her alone…

Then maybe there would be more to them than what they have. Something much deeper, something much truer.

Aera loves Noctis.

But she does not love him enough to give her life for him.

And when the Scourge flows freely from his wounds in place of blood, when the sight of the taint dripping down his face fills her with horror/disgust/fear, when his brother - a man she has never liked or and barely tolerates on good days - declares him a monster, Aera runs from him.

Anyone would have run, she tells herself, it was only natural.

Noctis failed his task, failed to meet his destiny. He was meant to heal the Starscourge, and yet he let it consume him. The fate bestowed upon him now is the result of that failure. It is only natural, she tells herself.

It is much easier to think of it as Noctis’s failure than it is to think of how she had pushed him into assuming his role as Healer and Savior. How she had soothed his doubts with pretty words and making promises she could never have possibly kept. How it was she who had interpreted the words and will of the Astrals for him. How it was her words he had followed. 

It was much easier to think him a failure than it was it think they had been lied to, that she’d been the one to bring about his downfall.

She pushes down her doubt and soldiers on. She must, for his sake and the sake of the world, she tells herself.

Her faith is rewarded. The Astrals grant her and those of her blood some of the Crystal’s light, the power to heal the Scourge. A power she had long sought after, and was once elated to find in Noctis. The nature of her powers differs from what his had been. It leaves her drained with every person she heals. As she grows older exhaustion becomes a constant companion.

It is a boon when her sister’s youngest daughter manifests the same abilities she had oh so long ago. She takes the girl in, teaches her how to commune with the Gods, how to see their signs and read their messages, how call upon the light inside her and use it to purge the Blight from it’s victims.

The burden of keeping the Starscourge at bay is a heavy one to bear, but she will succeed where Noctis failed. And when her body fails her, when she grows too old and too weary, her line will continue to bear that weight assuredly.

Aera had loved Noctis, she tells herself even years on.

Even as she thinks of him, locked away in that cold desolate prison, like a monster, never to see the light of day again. Even as the Astrals whisper their terrible, wonderful, tragic plans to cleanse their star once and for all in her ear. Even as she lay dying, old, decrepit, and entirely alone, she tells herself she made all the right choices.


	2. Insanity of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One doesn't always make the best decisions when they're young and dumb with love...

When they was small, Somnus was came down with a fever that ravaged his body, and worsened with each passing day.

Their father had gone to earn coin for the healers, with a promise to return before the week’s end. Their mother spent what little free time she had left bowed in prayer. So it was up to Noctis to sit at his ailing brother’s bedside that night and hold his hand through the worst of the fever.

The next morning Somnus’ fever had miraculously broken. He woke healthy as he’d ever been. And yet, Noctis was suddenly struck with the very same illness. Their mother did not know what to make of it, nor did their father or the healer when he returned two days later.

They were lucky, the healer told them. It was not an illness one recovers from without the right medicine. Another few days and the fever would have claimed him. He did not have an answer for how Somnus had overcome the fever on his own. In fact, it was as if he had never been sick in the first place.

…

Their family had a very old, ancestral name, father would tell them. They came from a long line of warriors, blessed with powers granted to them by the Gods themselves. It was their duty to protect the Great Crystal, gifted to mankind by the Draconian himself, that sat in the Temple at the centre of town.

So father trained them, with swords, and spears, and bows, and daggers. He taught them the secrets of their magic, just as his father had taught him, as had his father before him, and so on…

The magic in their blood, the blessings of the Crystal, made their line resilient and strong. Or so it had in their father and in Noctis. Somnus, born early and small, was prone to illness, as much as any child.

“He’ll grow out of it.” Father had said in that same gruff voice he always used.

And grow out of it he did, but not before contracting several fevers and ailments. Every time, Noctis would sit by his brother’s bedside, and every time, Somnus would recover and Noctis would fall ill.

Their mother called it a gift from the Gods. A blessing all his own that had nothing to do with the blood in his veins. Father had very little to say about it. But then, father had very little to say about much of anything.

Gruff, with a heart as steady as stone, and thoroughly unimpressed with everything, that was their father. He was a soldier, a warrior, before he was anything else, and he never pretended otherwise. And where their father was hard, their mother was soft, warm and gentle, with a faithful heart.

Father always told them they should find someone like her to be their wives. Someone unlike yourself, so that you may fit together all the better for it.

…

It had been Aera that had seen the true potential of his “gift”. It was Aera who came to him, eyes shining, her words painting a beautiful fantasy where they were the main actors.

Aera, a disciple at the Temple, her goal to one day claim the title of Oracle to the Gods. Beautiful, sweet, brave Aera, who need only smile that sweet little smile and Noctis’ insides would turn to mush, all thought vanishing from his head. He found himself a victim of madness, or bouts of unprompted suicidal bravery, whenever he was in her presence. (Often it was both at the same time…)

She marched steadily forward, barrelling through whatever stood in her way. Stubborn and shrewd and so unlike himself, who shied away from the people’s attention and the weight of responsibility that came with it.

And oh, how he loved her for it.

Love, he would come to learn, was it’s own kind of insanity.

And it was the usual bout of abrupt insanity and suicidal bravery that had him taking her hand, allowing her to lead him on, instead of recoiling in horror at what she was suggesting.

The Starscourge that ravaged the world, turning men into monsters, had no cure. Even the healing magic granted to the Oracles were nothing in face of the blight. But the light of Crystal flowed through the line of the ancient House Caelum, the chosen protectors of said Crystal, rendered them immune this foul darkness.

Or so Aera had claimed.

Surely, he had to be utterly mad to go along with her crazy scheme…

The Scourge burned, and burned, and burned. For three days he endured, black marks marring his flesh, heart full of doubt, until, ultimately it burned itself out. She had been right. The light of the Crystal, the magic flowing through his veins, it would not let the blight take root. When he emerged on the third day, all traces of the blight had vanished from his skin.

“I knew it!” She squealed, face split in a wide grin, that same sparkle in her eyes. “You can save them! You can save us all!”

Noctis felt his heart sink, doubt and fear pooling in the pit of his stomach. Him? Some kind of Savior? No. There was no way. This was too much! “Aera, I-”

He did not know what he was going to say then. He could not recall anything else in that moment. There was nothing beyond the feeling soft hands cupping his face, pale hair tickling his cheek, and the lips sealed over his, effectively silencing his doubts.

That night he lay in bed, lips tingling, heart thumping loudly in his ears. He had a notion then, that perhaps, just maybe, he could play the role of Savior in that beautiful, childish fantasy of hers. He could do it, he thought, for her.


	3. Things that Make and Break Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of Accursed!Noctis feels, inspired by that one scene from Episode Ardyn.
> 
> He's just a tired, sad puppy...

“You must loath those Lucians for what they did to you.”

“No.” The word slipped out before Noctis could really register it, but he barely had to stop and think about before realising it was the truth.

He didn’t hate Somnus for his treachery.

He didn’t hate Aera for turning her back on him.

And he certainly didn’t hate the people for his imprisonment.

He loved them - his homeland, his people, his adorable, arrogant, bull-headed, little shit of a brother, and beautiful, stubborn, selfish Aera. He loved them all far too much for that.

Oh, he was definitely angry though, furious even. For all his love for them, he truly didn’t think he had it in him to forgive them.

Not for this.

He’ll never forgive them for _this_.

But hate? No, he couldn’t do that. He was far too tired to waste energy stoking the fires of hate. And what would come of it if he had anyway? They were all long dead after all.

Verstael faltered, spluttering and staring at him in a rare display of confusion. “No?” He echoed incredulously.

Noctis couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself for having wiped that smug look from man’s face. He picked up his wine glass and hummed considerably. “Hmm, no.”

It’s good wine. He takes another generous sip and eyes Verstael over the rim of his glass. The man’s face twists and contorts through a serious of expressions before a sneer wins out, settling unkindly across his lips. It’s a familiar expression, and Noctis is not in any particular mood to, once again, be called naive and presented with a long speech on all the reasons why.

He considers reminding Verstael that _he_ is Lucian. Or of their conversation mere moments ago, where the man had detailed all the ways the Starscourge - still boiling and hissing beneath his skin - had transformed him into something that can no longer be considered _human_.

(For all that he would not wish what happened to him on anyone for any reason, he cannot exactly _blame_ the people for wanting to lock a monster away where it cannot hurt anyone.)

But then, the argument would likely be lost on him. Verstael Besithia, he has come to learn, is a madman of the highest caliber.

So instead he swirls his wine, and cuts in before the man can finish summoning his words, “You don’t have any siblings, do you?”

Verstael, stops. Frowns. “…No, I do not.” He returns slowly. Suspicious yet laced with curiosity.

Noctis smiles. He did not think so. Ever since they met, Verstael has brought to mind the men that would strut upon the shores of Lucis, calling themselves Kings/Lords/Conquerors, and thought that gave them the right to take that which does not belong to them. 

(And it was the sworn duty of the Lucis Caelum line to protect the Crystal from men like that.)

He quite imagines everything Verstael owns had once belonged to someone else. If he had a sibling, well, then he’d have had to have learned to share at some point. A lesson clearly lost on the man.

He took another sip and waved him off, “You would not understand, even if I explained it to you.” And he wouldn’t, Noctis knew. He _couldn’t_ understand even if he tried.

He couldn’t understand what it was like to have little spitfire of a brother; a mouthy little brat, so, _so_ desperate for acknowledgement. He had no idea what it meant to be the big brother who stood still and watched that arrogant, pitiful little brother grow and twist into the ambitious cold-hearted man he became.

Nor could he understand the feelings of that cowardly disappointment of a brother, who’s fear kept him rooted to the spot, daring to be more than what he was and failing all the more for it. Truly, if he’d just stepped aside and let Somnus take the lead… Even if it meant that Aera… that she- that she might not… _love_ him anymore…

He should have just left. Like Stella had. She had warned him too, told him to leave behind this game of Gods and Kings before it swallowed him whole. But his cowardly heart wouldn’t let him leave. For all that Aera and raged and cursed her sister, crying and calling her a coward, Noctis understand the courage it took to leave like she had.

Stella was the bravest of them all.

And Noctis could cry, and curse, and rage, but the past could not be undone. He had stayed and now he was here, more monster than man, everyone he knows and loves long gone, left in the company of a raving lunatic and his machinations.

As expected, Verstael’s frown deepen, displeasure rolling off him in waves. Noctis is not in any particular mood to, once again, fend off a tantrum. So he picks a new subject. “What is this food?”

Verstael snorts, still thoroughly displeased, but accepting the subject change all the same as he snatched up his own glass, “Meat, cloned in this facility.”

“Cloned.” Noctis tastes the word slowly on his tongue.

“We cultivated somatic cells, used them as donors to fuse the nucleus transplant cells to the recipient oocytes, and then we-” Verstael never looks more pleased than when he’s in the middle of one of his mad ravings.

Noctis sits in silence, watching his companion gesticulate wildly and wisely does not point out how most of those words sound entirely made up, or that their meaning is lost on him. He sits, letting the other’s words fly over his head, and holds his near empty wine glass in one hand, the other tightly clutching the ridiculously ornate armrest of his chair.

He sits in a chair that feels like it’s the only real thing left in the world. He tries not to be reduced to a trembling mess, or to break down and cry, or let himself get sucked down into the abyss of his thoughts. He tries not to wish this was all just a terrible nightmare that he’ll wake up from eventually.

He tries not to think of much he just wants to _go home_.

He definitely doesn’t think of how he no longer _has_ a home to go back to…


	4. Extra 1: Escapism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verstael: Speaks  
> Noctis: *Contemplates Nyan Cat and the universe*


	5. Nyactis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis made a friend.

Lunafreya stared, and prided herself on the fact she was not out right gaping. “Noctis,” She starts slowly, “what have you got there?”

Instead of giving her a straight answer to a simple, entirely reasonable, question, this utterly ridiculous man just blinks and shuffles his feet. “Uh… A smoothie?” He says, a slight frown in his voice as he stares at the pair of drinks in his hands like _that’s_ the most baffling thing at present.

(Though a rather small, distant part of her mind supposes that the concept of a smoothie may very well be entirely foreign to someone like him.)

He gives absolutely no mention to the largest, fattest chocobo Luna has ever seen, having parked itself at his side, nor to the scantily clad _cat-eared_ woman climbing off said chocobo’s back. That’s not even mentioning the sleek black tail, and matching cat ears atop his own head. 

Are they wearing matching outfits? Oh Gods, they are. The accent colours might be different, but the style is definitely similar enough to call those matching outfits. 

Something dark and ugly twists beneath Luna’s ribs; an emotion she refuses to name.

“A smoothie…” She repeats slowly in an attempt to maintain her composure. Or perhaps in hopes that it might prevent this conversation from derailing any further.

“Do you want some?” The fool raises on of the drinks, tentative and vaguely hopeful as if sensing her rapidly falling mood and preparing a peace offering in advance. “It’s really good.”

“No. Thank you.” She bites out. Hopes dashed. There is no saving this conversation train. Not with this ridiculous man as the conductor. 

He gives a single short nod and takes half a step back, as though increasing the distance between them will spare him from her wrath. 

He’s rather fortunate that the mystery woman chooses that moment to step forward and retrieve her drink from his hands, effectively making herself the centre of attention. 

“Ah! Um, Luna, this my new friend, Y’jimay- I said that wrong, didn’t I?”

“It’s alright! You were pretty close that time.” The red head replied with a peppy bounce. She turns to Luna and extends her hand, a gesture she subconscious returns, and then proceeds to shake her arm off. “Greetings! I’m Y’jhimei of the Y tribe! You must be the one and only Lady Lunafreya. I’ve heard so much about you from Noct. It’s nice to finally meet you!”

 _‘Noct_ ‘ she says… Aw, nicknames, how cute. Excuse her while she barfs!

She puts on her best diplomatic smile, the one she reserves for the Nifflheim delegations, where she has to laugh at all of Commander Caligo’s abysmal (and frankly offensive) jokes, and manages to steal back her poor arm. “The pleasure is all mine.” She catches Noctis taking another half-step back in her peripherals. “Can I ask how is it you know each other?” 

This leads to a particularly bizarre and long winded story about adventurers from other worlds, Primal beings, summoning rituals, and bad guys. The whole thing was quite unbelievable, were it not for the fact that, as Oracle, Luna deals with Gods and Magic and a daily basis. The story ends with the pair having decided to go exploring together only to have gotten lost but somehow managing to make their way back here.

And yet, no where in there do they mention Noctis’s newly acquired feline appendages. 

Luna sincerely regrets having ever unearthed Ravus’s porn stash. For all that her brother likes to slander anything remotely Lucian, he certainly enjoys indulging in their anime and manga. 

Luna never needed to know what hentai is, but now she does. And it’s terrible. Thanks to Ravus. She never understood the whole cat-eared fetish either, but now she does. And not only is it terrible, but it’s all made so, so much worse by the plain strip of _sylleblossom blue_ leather wrapped around the throat of the most ridiculous man on the face of Eos. 

Is this revenge for all the stray cat jokes she’s made at his expense? Gods, why oh _why_ did she have to give him that collar? It had just been a harmless joke when she’d slapped that on him! He wasn’t supposed to still be wearing it after all this time! 

And yet here he is, perfectly content to waltz around in public sporting a collar. Did the fool truly not have any sense of self-awareness!?

Did he not understand what he was doing to her right now!?

She’ll have to prepare a suitable punishment for her brother for having ever planted these terrible, terrible ideas in her head, however unintentionally. Another look at his diary should provide the inspiration that her annoyingly distracted brain is currently unable to conjure up.

Said brain is promptly reduced to incoherent pile of mush when the source of all her problems happens to bend over and reveals a large strip of skin where the tail meets his spine, oh gods those pants sit quite low on his hips don’t they? 

The lack of brain function has her throwing caution to the wind and giving into the impulse to grab the twitching appendage. Really, she knows it’s mean to grab a cat’s tail, but the utterly obscene noise that escapes his lips short-circuits what little remaining brain power she has. The result only has her gripping tighter and going for another tug.

If nothing else, she finally gets an explanation for the ears; a thing known as a “glamour prism” apparently. Y’jhimei happily gives Luna her own, though hers doesn’t turn her into a cat person, but something known as an “Au Ra”.

It is not enough to distract her from the increasingly invasive thoughts swirling around her head. Thoughts that only grow in intensity well into the night as she lies curling up in bed, face aflame, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest.

This is all Ravus’s fault. Everything! Except the parts that are the fault of that foolish, ridiculous, stupidly ~~sexy~~ dense excuse of a man! The both of them need to be punished for this! _Severely_ so…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luna is a horny teenager and Noctis is a handsome, sexy (annoyingly oblivious) older man. 
> 
> (Also, miqo'te Noct is my fav~)


End file.
